


Observations on Treachery, In Which The Charge Against Maj. Armitage Hux is Fully Refuted, Written by Himself.

by IrisParry



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Propaganda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisParry/pseuds/IrisParry
Summary: The charge against me is a connection with one Luke Skywalker, for the purposes of delivering classified First Order intelligence. My real crime is an amorous connection with his apprentice, for a considerable time while our true identities were concealed.
  Major Armitage Hux writes his way out of hell.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, this is basically a Reynolds pamphlet (see end notes), but you don't need any familiarity with the history (or the musical) to read it. Many thanks to [impertinency](http://impertinency.tumblr.com), without whom this fic would not exist, and to [deadwright](http://deadwright.tumblr.com) and [verybadhedgehog](http://verybadhedgehog.tumblr.com) for further read-throughs and encouragement, and for putting up with my yelling excitedly at them for hours before I posted this.

In a galaxy on the verge of anarchy, the First Order dares to dream of a return to stability and prosperity. The New Republic’s indifference leaves as bloody a trail as its violent attentions: those who do not meet their unhappy end at the hands of its sinister Special Forces may be permitted to starve in their millions, free of government interference, or to work until they drop building luxury speeders, gutting their planet’s natural resources, all to enrich the bejewelled degenerates of Chandrila and Hosnian Prime. 

The First Order alone says, no. The First Order alone stands for freedom, for security, for the principles that founded decades of peace under the Empire. Vision, discipline and a humble calling to service sustain us while this glorious burden is ours to bear. It is a task for citizens of the utmost integrity, of tenacity and fortitude, for we are beset by the despicable lies and open hostility of the merciless Senate, and the cowardly machinations of their saboteurs and infiltrators. Who among us has not suffered grievous loss at the hands of this mob, its only authority the bequest of terrorism? Our shared suffering and passion for justice is at the heart of our fellowship. 

It will, therefore, naturally appal any citizen to see that there are those within the Order who lack the spine or stomach to stand up to the New Republic’s onslaught, a contemptible handful who allow petty personal interests corrode their loyalty to our noble cause. Envious gossip is unbecoming in the common man: in the upper echelons of a vital galactic security force it is downright dangerous. Ever conscious of the dignity of my position, and of the Order it is my privilege to serve, I shall not concern this document with cheap talk more befitting the character of my accusers, nor detail any sordid episodes in the troubled youths of these conspirators, no matter how common this knowledge among our graduating Academy class. 

My own more respectable achievements during the Academy years, and those that followed, are a matter of public record: they reflect a young man of impeccable Imperial stock, robbed of home and heritage by so-called liberators, already dedicated to applying a formidable intellect to the betterment of his fellow citizens and their deliverance from the brutality of the New Republic. A man unafraid to use his talents from a young age, a man ever driven by distinct and radical vision, may naturally expect hesitation, even suspicion, from the more timid among society, from those whose families somehow escaped the ravages of the Republic with a degree of comfort alien to many of us, who lack the same sense of urgency and spirit of enterprise. 

He should not, however, expect the ceaseless campaign of vile slanders which I have endured during an unblemished career in selfless public service. It is an affront to the learned inspectors of the internal tribunals, and the First Order Security Bureau, that they were forced to devote precious time to the transparently political contrivances and wicked fabrications of these wretches. I have been repeatedly vindicated by the committees in thorough and unambiguous judgements, and yet my enemies, with scant regard for the solemn duties which should more properly occupy their energies, persist in their efforts to sully my good name. It is, of course, a tragedy that the honourable Major Lomax was lost to the calamitous accident before he could testify to the second committee in person, though the detailed records subsequently uncovered were of great assistance to their deliberations: it is fitting that the diligence which marked his career should be his legacy in death. Were he with us today, I am sure he would be the first to issue fulsome apology and urge the desistance of his co-conspirators’ terrible crusade.

I regret that my own modest, composed response to these assaults may have encouraged them further. My respect for the due process of our institutions naturally prevented the more forthright disavowals which their flimsy ‘evidence’ barely seemed to warrant in any event. It is with a heavy heart that I issue this refutation of the latest odious accusations to demean our political discourse, but their remarkable ferocity and weighty implications leave me no choice. The agents of chaos, not satisfied with maligning my personal reputation, make outrageous and unfounded claims which strike at the very foundations of our organisation and the order toward which it strives; indeed, an astute reader may reach the shocking conclusion that they seek to undermine the authority of the Supreme Leader himself. I cannot in good conscience bear such treachery.

The charge against me is a connection with one Luke Skywalker, for the purposes of delivering classified First Order intelligence. My real crime is an amorous connection with his apprentice, for a considerable time while our true identities were concealed.

The absurdity of the charge will be immediately apparent to the discerning minds which populate the ranks of the First Order, yet for the sake of the Order I must publicly dismantle this perfidious apparatus, lest any of its components be salvaged to once more imperil our state. My life has been dedicated to furthering the interests of the First Order, and to these ends I have been afforded positions of great responsibility and sensitivity. At the current rank of Major, as a one-time agent of the Security Bureau, as an operative seconded on a delicate mission at the behest of the Supreme Leader himself at the very time of my supposed betrayals, I would be a valuable asset indeed for the Resistance and their puppet government. Even aside from my unquestionable strategic value, intelligence in my possession might cause ruinous personal embarrassment to certain officials, the detail of which I shall not stoop to recounting here; suffice to say that the sum of my knowledge, in the wrong hands, could bring the Order to its knees. Our present strength, sustained in no small part by my own humble efforts, should satisfy any citizen of good judgement that my loyalty is absolute. 

I will proceed to an outline of my connection with the erstwhile apprentice, and thereby journey through the supposed proofs presented by my adversaries: chiefly the messages, shamefully obtained through illegal means from my private files; and the meeting with an alleged member of the Resistance, documented by an agent operating well out of his remit and disgracing his office through his malice and ignorance. Through the narrative and associated evidence, the purity of my motivation and unimpeachable integrity of my character will be clearly demonstrated. 

I have already alluded to the reasons behind my frequent journeys to the Core Worlds during the period, and readers will understand why I can say little more about the important operation the Supreme Leader entrusted to me alone. This in itself speaks to the virtue my detractors would blacken: a man who would sell secrets to a despised enemy for a handful of credits would surely not hesitate to reveal them to beloved comrades in order to safeguard his own reputation and hard-won position. I am no such man, and shall say only that I made numerous intelligence-gathering expeditions, during the majority of which my true identity and allegiance was by necessity kept secret from those I encountered.

My initial meeting with the apprentice occurred by chance at licensed premises in an unassuming district of Hanna City, Chandrila. My accusers describe this district in the most unsavoury terms, alleging a prevalence of narcotics, harlotry and general debauchery. I can only suggest that this speaks to their own tawdry priorities when visiting the city. I myself encountered only the honest, hardworking citizenry we strive to liberate from the oppression of the New Republic. It is true that desperate times lead some to desperate measures: the blame for depredation of the material and spiritual condition of the people lays squarely with a decadent government, which cruelly neglects these unfortunate communities at the same time as it exploits their labour. Only those of stunning political naivete would judge otherwise, those with alarming susceptibility to Republican propaganda - and, it must be suspected, a fancy for the gilded life of privilege that keeps senators distant from the reality of life in their cities. 

I seek no such luxury: ever keen to gather broad intelligence and make the most efficient use of the budgets under my control, I made my base of operations a modest room above an ordinary cantina. To avoid suspicion from my hosts I was obliged to spend time in the cantina itself during the evenings, an entirely normal practice for those engaged in covert operations and one my accusers, coddled in the bureaucracy that better suits their capabilities, can of course be forgiven for struggling to fathom. The apprentice approached my table shortly after my arrival, introducing himself only as Ben. I made polite conversation with him, compelled to compliance by his imposing physical stature as he related a vague, somewhat rambling, account of the unhappy circumstances of both his home and work life. 

It is with great reluctance that I must now refer the reader to the images in appendix A, which have been recently published by a frivolous Republican holosheet: there can be no condoning the appalling invasion of privacy they represent, nor the cowardice of the ‘anonymous source’ who somehow acquired them following the mysterious disappearance of the shameless reporter themselves. The images have mercifully been cropped to exclude the most explicit detail, but it is nonetheless clear that they intrude upon a most intimate situation. To those who will say that their inclusion is gratuitous, I say firstly that they are of material assistance to my defence; and secondly, that ship has long sailed, launched by my enemies with their scandalous insinuations about my private activities in past proceedings. The unusual level of depravity ascribed to me then is likely to have fixed the insinuations in the minds of many, making the exclusion of this kind of material to protect a reputation for chastity simply absurd. 

I press the images into service as proof of two points. Firstly, that Ben is a remarkable physical specimen, broad of chest and shoulder, near my own exceptional height and uncommonly well-muscled. I instinctively assessed him to be an individual of considerable athletic skill and endurance, brute strength and indelicate sensibilities, and therefore resolved to endure his attention with civility rather than risk his wrath. I trust the images leave no doubt that this was the correct decision, illustrating as they do that Ben is easily capable of bearing my entire weight should he so choose. Secondly, they demonstrate he was not recognisable as a “Jedi” at the time of our acquaintance. Regrettably his unremarkable civilian attire is not shown, but it is clear from a number of angles that the distinctive braid, worn by members of the fanatical cult to which Ben was unwillingly and temporarily bound, was not present. 

When he sat uninvited at my table in the cantina, therefore, I could only have been under the impression that a strapping - if callow - young man, presumably a manual labourer of some kind, wished to pass the time by unburdening himself to a stranger. His objectively agreeable form was drawing other attentions, and I had no desire to see him fall prey to the sleazy appetites of more unscrupulous patrons. Compassion being at the heart of the First Order’s project, I charge any one of you to say that you would have denied him the protection of your company. Of course, I kept in mind that his sad tale might have been designed to secure an offer of financial aid, my own hale physique and unblemished complexion promising a degree of class he would not find at other tables. As our conversation progressed, however, it became apparent that other than pecuniary consolation would be acceptable to him, and he accompanied me to my room.  

What passed there has unfortunately been publicly documented by the covert activities of a deplorable gutter journalist, clearly already aware of Ben’s true identity. My detractors will undoubtedly cry that an officer of the First Order ought to carefully vet potential partners: yet more evidence of their unfamiliarity with the tough choices faced by the frontline operative, for whom a strategically anonymous coupling may be absolutely necessary to lend legitimacy to their cover. However, I cannot deny that my relations with Ben proved as satisfactory as may be expected given his undeniable physical attributes. I make no apology, as it is no crime for two consenting adults to satisfy healthy desires, in a situation considerably more wholesome than those favoured by a number of my accusers. I will not describe these sordid happenings here, out of the respect for their spouses’ peace that they have themselves neglected, but trust that the holos of appendix B (which readers may already be aware of, as they were coincidentally published in an unseemly holosheet whose circulation in First Order space clearly warrants urgent review) speak for themselves. 

It will come as no surprise, given my scrupulous reputation for honesty, that I had no wish to mislead Ben about the possibility of any ongoing relationship. Our circumstances, and my absolute devotion to my duties, clearly forbade it. I steadfastly bore his attempts to prolong our acquaintance, and despite his reluctance we parted on civil terms the following afternoon. In the days that followed I confess that Ben was occasionally in my thoughts. My lasting impression was of a naive young man likely to be easily influenced by more sophisticated individuals, and I could not help but contemplate the impact of such guidance on his prospects. His descriptions of his family relationships would gain far greater significance to me later, but at that time I was simply aware that he was cut adrift and left vulnerable by obviously neglectful parenting. His plight aroused my sympathies, pledged as I am to right the wrongs of the Republic’s barbarous regime and bankrupt ideology. I could not have imagined how directly Ben’s troubles issued from the rotten heart of that society.

My duties had me absent from Hanna City for a few days, but on my return to the cantina I found Ben waiting at the table at which I first made his acquaintance. Moved as I was by the hope that lit up his fine features on catching sight of me, I nonetheless resolved to quash his burgeoning attachment for his own sake. I spoke harshly to him, emphasising the singularity of our liaison and asserting the purely physical nature of his charms, though it pained me to do so. He responded in kind, vehemently insisting he had not been waiting for me at all (and certainly not inquiring unsubtly as to my whereabouts for the past two days, as the bartender had advised me) and seemingly determined to embarrass himself through these kinds of obvious lies. This, of course, only deepened my concern for the welfare of an unworldly young man in such an environment. Our heated exchange progressed, and I formed the impression that Ben, impetuous as he was, had attended the cantina intent on seducing me and was perfectly willing to lavish his attentions elsewhere in an attempt to inflame my jealousy. From my thorough reconnoitring of the premises I was aware that it was frequented by individuals with outlandish tastes and very few scruples, as well as species with anatomical incompatibilities with humans, and I could not have stood by and allowed Ben to fall into their clutches while it was within my power to prevent this. 

All the while, I was also re-evaluating the potential strategic benefits of an ongoing arrangement - it would explain my frequent visits to the cantina and retention of the room to the satisfaction of most casual observers, doing away with the necessity of relating an elaborate cover story, and the personal nature of my business would discourage further attention. Public displays of affection make most species uncomfortable, and it was with this in mind that I chose to make my calculated receptiveness to Ben’s advances emphatically clear at the table that evening. This action, also documented by the aforementioned holosheet, was a sensible approach to the situation at hand and one entirely conducive to the long-term success of my mission (as was the later deployment of the range of crassly possessive markings about Ben’s neck and shoulders, a tedious and juvenile practice from which I derived little enjoyment). 

Subsequently I had frequent meetings with him, most of them at the room above the cantina whenever my responsibilities took me back to Chandrila. It is true that I also attended the cantina during rare periods of leave. In order to maintain the subterfuge, it was necessary for me to ensure that our relationship remained highly satisfactory for him, in terms of the frequency of our meetings as well as their content. 

This brings me to the messages illegally acquired by my accusers. The correspondence was conducted using a private account, with appropriate safeguards to ensure a recipient could not trace its origin back to Order space. The messages could only have been obtained through physical access to my personal datapad, without my permission, a crime for which I trust the perpetrators will face swift justice. Rather than being the only products of limited intercepts, I contend that they were in fact carefully selected to omit crucial context which would make their true nature readily apparent. 

The following exchanges have been singled out and can here be fully explained and the related claims dismissed:

 

**Excerpt 1**

>Are we still to meet as arranged?

 

>>depends

>>did u get hold of the stuff

>>???

 

>I did, though it was not easy. You had better make this worth my while.

 

>>u know i will

  
  


**Excerpt 2**

>we had a deal

>i held up my end

>i really really did

 

>>And I thought I made my appreciation very clear at the time. I intend to honour our bargain, of course, I just need more time to make preparations.

 

>pls its not like this is your first time

 

>>This is big. I must take all the appropriate precautions.

  
  


**Excerpt 3**

>did u bring it

>???

>???????

>come on you’re killing me

>you know how bad i want it

 

>>I do have to be discreet about this, you know.

 

>did u or didnt u 

 

>>I did. 

>>Are you pleased?

 

>sjflsdjgblf;

 

>>I’ll take that as a yes.

  
  


It is said that these exchanges represent my agreement to transfer classified information to an unidentified Resistance figure, with that correspondent’s enthusiasm an indication of the significance of said information. They in fact represent my ongoing commitment to my mission on behalf of the Supreme Leader and the Order, through maintenance of the relationship with Ben. Again, I make no apology for the nature of the information I am now forced by my enemies to relate: yes, I would have preferred to keep such matters private, but not because they are in any way shameful. The items referred to in the extracts are in fact a range of devices designed for the enhancement of sensual pleasure. Though it might be said that some of the items represent an unusually refined, epicurean taste, the use of such devices in general is entirely ordinary among young people of healthy appetites and robust, adventurous constitutions. My enemies have my sympathy, if not my surprise, at the fact that their own imaginations and erotic sensibilities did not allow them to consider this explanation. Receipts from various emporiums in the Core Worlds, collected in appendix C, demonstrate that all items were purchased legally, and that the timings correspond with the conversations eavesdropped upon by my unscrupulous opponents. Appendix D contains later transcripts in which far more direct reference to the items in question is made: I trust that these make abundantly clear the true nature of the correspondence and the quality of my judgement in these matters.

In an uncharacteristic attempt at something resembling diligence, and an entirely typical misappropriation of First Order resources, my accusers made clumsy efforts at tracing my correspondent. They were able to narrow down the source to only a relatively broad geographical area, and in their rush to judgement considered this sufficient proof for their spurious indictment. It is indeed the case that some of Ben’s messages were sent from the vicinity of Skywalker’s compound: as I have already indicated, he was for a time an unwilling conscript in the sinister cult calling itself a Jedi Order, though as appendix A demonstrates he was no longer sporting their visible accoutrements by the time of my acquaintance with him. After I have related the extraordinary circumstances by which I became aware of this connection, and the events that followed my discovery, there will be no reader left in any doubt as to my loyalties.

Returning to the cantina one evening, I was accosted by an individual who had apparently been lying in wait in one of the narrow alleys that riddle the district. Upon being dragged bodily into the mouth of the alley, I naturally made efforts to disentangle myself, and succeeded to the point where I was able to draw my blaster. However, my assailant was accompanied by a Wookiee of considerable size, and it did not require familiarity with their language to understand the meaning of the warning roar emitted on sight of the weapon: any violence toward his companion would be answered in kind, that much was obvious. Though I of course had every confidence in my training, I resolved to discover their motivations before I entertained their dispatch, being conscious of the unwelcome attention two executions could draw even in a desperate part of town. They had made no attempt to forestall their doom by assaulting me further, even in the face of clear martial skill, and it would cost me little to ascertain whether there was an explanation for this beyond their obvious fear of my capabilities. 

The first of my assailants was human and rather over-familiar in manner, addressing me by my false identity and confidently rehearsing the particulars I had put about in my limited contact with the owners and patrons of the cantina. I was, of course, unfazed, as it was clear he had no genuine or dangerous knowledge, but thought it prudent at this point to affect a degree of terror befitting an ordinary man in such circumstances. Thoroughly taken in by the skills only the finest Academy education can impart to its agents, he played directly into my hands and revealed his purpose. He introduced himself as Ben’s father, indicated his awareness of our relationship, such as it was, and asserted in no uncertain terms that my personal safety would be in jeopardy should Ben be caused any emotional disturbance on my account. These threats were punctuated with the Wookiee’s boisterous assent, and left me in no doubt as to their sincerity.

As if to emphasise his seriousness as he spoke, the human drew down the hood that had obscured many of his features, and here the thorough study he had neglected came to my aid once again. Though the years had not been kind to him, I immediately recognised the man as Han Solo, reprobate and career criminal even before he joined up with the band of terrorists who betrayed the Empire, with the presence of the Wookiee yet more corroboration. It is common knowledge, of course, that Solo has been estranged from his warmongering spouse Organa for some time, and as he spoke many of Ben’s oblique references to an absent and uncaring family were illuminated to me. Here was his father, decrepit and boorish, assaulting and threatening men in broad daylight, desperate to cling to the violent swagger of his heyday at the head of a band of intergalactic thugs. When Solo described himself as “not the world’s greatest dad”, it took all of my considerable discipline not to laugh in his face. He asserted that Ben had “been through some tough times”, entirely neglecting his own pivotal role in them, and had the audacity to position himself as the protector of a child he had long abandoned.

Apparently considering spying and feeble attempts at menace the extent of his fatherly duties, Solo and the Wookiee made off in the direction of the spaceport, and had it not been for my focus on the long-term success of the Supreme Leader’s mission I would have put a blaster bolt in the back of both their heads right there in the street. It was at this moment, with the three of us leaving the alley and dispersing into the crowds apparently peaceably, that holos were taken, and my detractors, having already reached their conclusions about my honour, saw only the validation for which they constantly scrabble in vain.

My mind raced as I made my way through the streets to the cantina, where I knew Ben awaited me as we had arranged. I felt assured that Solo knew nothing of my true identity, as even the most inept tactician would never have sanctioned his ridiculous intervention as part of an undercover operation. Yet I could not discount that Solo might have failed his son one more time in his ignorance and arrogance, blithely exposing an operation that he had no way of knowing about given how easily and completely he had forsaken his former loyalties. I had no concerns that I had given away useful information: I had not taken Ben into my confidence, and though he was a demanding partner the intimacy he so frequently desired of me was restricted to the physical. My new knowledge changed things irrevocably, however, raising questions to which I would have answers. 

Ben met me at my room already in a state of some urgency, as was often the case. I used this to my advantage, deploying my own naturally authoritative bearing to encourage him into the docility that he enjoyed on occasion. Ben obediently divested himself of his clothing and submitted to the application of binders at his wrists. Once he was secured I set about searching the room for listening devices or similar, as was my regular habit in any case but which seemed especially pressing given that Ben had been there alone before my arrival. He bore this in silence, though with no small degree of physical agitation. Ben could most likely have freed himself from the binders and stopped me, possessing uncommon physical capacity as has been evidenced, but he did not. I could not be sure whether this was an indication of his innocence or his commitment to his proclivities, however, and had little choice but to confront him while he lay at my mercy.

I began to question him, cautiously at first, and his responses were initially in keeping with his understanding of the context of our meeting. As his defences lowered I probed more deeply, targeting areas of sensitivity, until I eventually made specific reference to his identity and he became highly emotional. It was not without exertion that I subdued him again, and urged him to unburden himself. 

He did so, and, weeping in my arms, related an unhappy tale of his loveless upbringing at the heart of the New Republic’s supposed utopia, and his shocking mistreatment at the hands of two of its most cherished figureheads. Discontented with life in the Republic, and lacking his mother’s easy skill with deception to aid him in concealing it, Ben was pressed into the so-called ‘Jedi order’ as a child. The Jedi are, of course, extinct, through the hard work of our forebears in the days of Empire, and Skywalker’s cult represents only the dangerous delusions of a family with no true morality or conscience of their own to sustain them. Senator Organa sanctions the removal of children from their families and their sequestration in Skywalker’s compound, where they are subject to intensive indoctrination in his twisted interpretation of an already violent and intolerant religion, aimed at producing an army of fanatics willing to sacrifice all at his command. Skywalker and Organa deceive or intimidate parents with tales of supernatural abilities and promises of power, with no evidence of their empirical existence. Had Ben possessed any of the legendary powers of the Jedi, he would have easily been able to bend me to his will, to take whatever knowledge he wanted from my mind and with it to bring down the Order. And yet here we stand. 

Abandoned by his parents to a harsh regime, deprived of the necessities and small pleasures of life, Ben continued to rebel against the New Republic’s oppression, eventually escaping the compound and cutting off the braid Skywalker insisted upon in pathetic imitation of the ancient customs of his idols. Seemingly incapable of taking decisive action, whether to support Ben as was their duty or to bring him back to heel as the Jedi’s dogma would have demanded, his parents and Skywalker allowed him continued access to their resources while he simply drifted. Plainly terrified by their assertions that he would soon “see sense”, and suspecting that more brutal reprogramming methods were being prepared for him, Ben found himself trapped by his family’s power within the Republic. Deceived by their disgusting propaganda, he believed he had nowhere else to turn.

From the moment his beggarly father revealed his identity I had of course seen Ben’s potential value to the First Order. That he was unhappy at home, I had some idea already: that he had come to loathe the Republic through his deep knowledge of its highest echelons, that he in fact shared many of my own ideals, that he craved the order toward which we strive, I discovered with startling clarity that evening. I could bring Ben Organa-Solo to the Order not as a hostage, but as a defector. 

I spoke to him in guarded terms about my knowledge of the Order, of the Republic’s lies, and his eyes shone as he begged me to arrange for his passage to Order space. I was under no illusions that his attachment to me played a part in his eagerness, and indeed our acquaintance seemed to have been the tipping point in a mind already so close to abandoning the Republic. Skywalker’s minions are sworn not only to celibacy, a state highly disagreeable to Ben, as readers might imagine, but to the suppression of natural emotions in all their forms, with their master the only acceptable object of devotion. His feeling for me had quite convinced him that he could never again submit to such a regime. Impassioned and wild-eyed, he asserted that now he had experienced all that had been cruelly forbidden him, he would not be denied again. 

With my blaster at hand, I resolved to make final test of Ben’s sincerity. I unbound his hands, whereupon he fell to his knees and made earnest pledge of his service to me and to the Order. I began to make arrangements for his defection the following day.

Here, then, are the facts behind the activities my enemies seek to use against me. I carried out a casual affair, the better to carry out my duties in matters of importance far beyond the wit of my accusers. I secured the affection and loyalty of the scion of the Republic’s greatest heroes, and was bringing the First Order a considerable asset. Ben had invaluable personal knowledge of the Republic and its key figures, and his decision alone would deal a devastating blow to their morale and their claims to honour and propriety. The Organa-Solo family ought to be the most illustrious dynasty, the pinnacle of Republican society, shining figures of aspiration to their citizens: and yet Solo is an uncouth, degenerate criminal who abandoned his wife and child, and Organa is consumed above all else by her maniacal determination to eradicate the survivors of her youthful atrocities. They are as unworthy custodians of the galaxy’s peace as they were guardians of an innocent child.

Even without such a lineage, a basic sense of decency and respect for human dignity would have compelled any of us to come to this desperate young man’s aid. It will therefore incense readers to learn that Ben Organa-Solo’s tyrannical oppressors are determined to forbid him his freedom. I shall not soon forget the sight of him, sleeping peacefully in our room above the cantina that morning, already so much lighter and happier as he dreamed of his new life in the First Order - for when I returned from my communication with the Supreme Leader, he was gone. 

The First Order will not fail Ben Organa-Solo as his family and his government have done time and time again. The First Order keeps its promises. I can reveal, by order of the Supreme Leader, that today special forces will storm Skywalker’s compound to recover him - or to avenge him, if harm has befallen him. Led by the Leader’s most elite Knights, and their fearsome new captain, I have no doubt that they will prevail.

If my determination to uphold the integrity of my rank and of the Order I serve has led me to a more copious explanation than the feeble accusations necessitated, I beg my readers’ indulgence. By calling into question my loyalty, my enemies expose their own woeful inadequacies as investigators, their unworldly and judgemental attitudes more befitting the hateful Jedi, and their astonishing lack of faith in the Supreme Leader’s judgement. Two at least have remaining a shred of honour, an iota of decency in their wicked hearts, and have surrendered themselves to the custody of the Security Bureau while these matters are investigated: may the cowardice of their missing comrades haunt them in their contemplation.

A. Hux

**Author's Note:**

> The Reynolds pamphlet was published by Alexander Hamilton in 1797: he'd been accused of corruption while secretary to the treasury, and copped to an affair with a married woman in order to prove his innocence. In considerable detail, with some amazing turns of phrase. If you haven't read [the actual document,](http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-21-02-0138-0002) have a go because it really is THAT extra. The song hardly exaggerates it at all. I borrowed a couple of phrases, paraphrasing slightly: the "the charge against me is a connection... " etc is well known from the song and directly from the pamphlet itself. Another line I used here is "it became apparent that other than pecuniary consolation would be acceptable". HAMILTON ACTUALLY SAID THAT. It is one of the best euphemisms for fucking that I have ever heard and I just had to. The title is a play on the actual longass title of the pamphlet.


End file.
